


Stud

by gonnapop



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alien Biology, Breeding, But not A/B/O, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Soft Kylux, canonverse, xeno hux
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 05:29:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17482097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gonnapop/pseuds/gonnapop
Summary: Part alien, Armitage Hux has always longed to have a child. But his biological clock is ticking.With no time to find a suitable partner to father his baby, Armitage hires the services of Snoke’s prize breeding stud, Kylo Ren.





	Stud

**Author's Note:**

> based on [this prompt](kyluxhardkink.tumblr.com/post/173238554950/kylo-isnt-snokes-apprentice-but-his-breeding) from kyluxhardkink.
> 
>  **content warnings:** Hux is part alien and capable of getting pregnant. he has what could be considered both dmab and dfab anatomy (I’m not a big fan of assbabies). words like “cunt” and are used to describe his anatomy.
> 
> while Kylo chooses to work as a stud and enthusiastically consents to impregnating Hux, his situation with Snoke is implied to be a little shady — so the sex could be considered dubcon by some readers. I just want to cover all my bases here.
> 
>  **general warnings include:** mpreg; breeding kink; pregnancy kink; intersex character (if humanoid alien anatomy counts); PIV sex; dubcon (depending on how you look at it); sex work; mentions of infertility and fertility treatments.
> 
> I understand this may not work for all readers. I want to minimize the chances of someone being inadvertently triggered while reading, so please mind the tags, consider how they might interact with your own triggers/sensitivities, and read safely.

**Hosnian Prime  
** **34 ABY**

Armitage Hux bustled around his apartment, anxiously straightening up while he waited for the stud to arrive.

The housekeeping droid had been through twice already, of course. But he had to channel his restless energy somehow or he’d go mad. After months of preparation, tonight was the night, and everything had to be perfect.

He’d never thought he would be in this position: waiting for a hired stud to come to his home and put a baby in him. But here he was.

Armitage was not entirely human. His mother had a mysterious genetic background, which granted Armitage most of the outward physical characteristics of a typical human male, as well as the ability to bear children. Unlike full-blooded humans, he experienced estrus cycles.

These cycles were meant to occur twice a year, but Armitage’s were irregular, often coming earlier or later than expected. Sometimes he skipped one entirely, which had seemed like a blessing for most of his life: The three-day fever only got in the way of more important things.

When he wanted a child—when he was ready for one, when the rest of his life was settled and orderly—there would be time. At least, that was what he assumed.

The fertility specialist he saw earlier this year, simply to get more information about planning a family in his rather unique circumstances, told him otherwise.

There were abnormalities in Armitage’s reproductive system, previously undiagnosed. It explained his sporadic cycles: His body couldn’t regulate them independently. To add insult to injury, he had low ovarian reserve—fewer eggs than he should have at his age. Overall, his fertility was rapidly declining. He was only thirty-four, but soon, he would be barren.

The choice was made for him, it seemed. If he was going to have a biological child, it had to be soon. Now, in fact. Armitage began to explore his options.

Ultimately, he reached out to Snoke, a wealthy and somewhat reclusive developer who dabbled in commercial breeding on the side. They had a casual business relationship; First Order Industries had partnered with Snoke’s company in the past.

After a few weeks of tense negotiation, Armitage paid handsomely for the services of Snoke’s prize breeding stud: Kylo Ren.

Snoke had other, less expensive studs in his stable, but none so desirable as Kylo Ren. Not only was he an impressive physical specimen, he had direct blood ties to the Elder Houses, though Snoke would not confirm which one, in order to avoid the possibility of familial disputes. Any child of Ren’s was considered illegitimate, unable to inherit titles or estates. The nobility angle was mostly a pleasant fantasy, an added bonus with no tangible value.

Ren also had a record of successful couplings with multiple humanoid species, which made him an attractive match for Armitage’s complex genetic profile. That was what sealed it for Armitage, more than anything else he read in Ren’s holorecord.

Armitage didn’t need a star athlete, or a little prince, or a future Jedi. He just wanted a baby. And all things considered, he doubted he would find a better stud than Kylo Ren.

So he paid the stud fee, which cost more than his penthouse apartment in the heart of Republic City, and began readying himself to conceive.

The process took months. He took daily supplements. He quit smoking and drinking, minded what he ate, took up an exercise regimen recommended by his doctor. Then a complicated drug cocktail, which made him bloated and irritable, helped him to develop follicles for ovulation.

Once the doctor confirmed that his follicles were ready, he received an injection to trigger his breeding cycle—perhaps the last one he would ever have.

Now, thirty-six hours later, the cycle was in full swing. Armitage could feel it: the familiar heat low in his belly, the wetness between his thighs, the strangely heightened sense of smell. He was almost sure he could feel his ovaries, too: swollen and full from the fertility treatments, about to drop their eggs. He was ready to be bred.

Hence, Ren.

Armitage almost jumped out of his skin when the bell rang. There was only one person it could be.

Taking a breath to steel himself, Armitage went to the door and answered. Any intelligent thoughts immediately vanished.

Kylo Ren was exactly as advertised, and so much more.

When reviewing pictures of potential studs, Armitage had been drawn to Ren right away. He’d liked the shape of Ren’s nose, the angles of his cheeks, the slope of his shoulders. He was a little taller than Armitage, dark-haired and dark-eyed, with strong features and a broad build. In person, he exuded a presence that was impossible to convey through holos and personality profiles. He filled Armitage’s vision.

“Armitage Hux?” Ren asked, when Armitage did nothing but stare at him, dumbfounded.

“Yes. That’s me,” Armitage managed. He felt foolish, heat-addled. “Kylo Ren, I presume?”

“That’s what they call me.” It was probably the hormones talking, but even his voice was a turn-on.

“Do come in.” Armitage ushered Ren inside and the door shut automatically behind him. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Sure,” Ren said, and Armitage was grateful for the excuse to disappear into the kitchen and open the fridge. Just when he was about to ask what Ren would like, the stud called: “Fruit juice, if you have it. Whatever kind.”

Juice? That was an unexpected request, but a welcome one, considered Armitage didn’t have any alcohol. He threw it all out when he quit drinking.

Armitage poured them each a wine glass full of cold jewel-fruit juice and returned to the sitting room. Ren was sprawled on the couch, as comfortably as if he lived here.

Their hands brushed when Armitage handed him the glass. Even that light touch of skin made Armitage shiver. The heat was getting to him.

“Snoke prefers to pair me with other Force-sensitives, you know,” Ren commented, as Armitage sat beside him. “Normally, one of his other studs would’ve been matched to someone like you.”

“So I’ve heard.” Breeding Force users seemed to be something of a passion of Snoke’s, the strangest possible hobby. In all honesty, Armitage was surprised when the old alien accepted his request; he was extremely selective about who received his best stud’s seed.

“But you still asked for me specifically,” Ren said.

Armitage swallowed a mouthful of juice. “Well. I’m told you have a high success rate. Exceptionally, ah—”

“Virile?”

“Yes.” Armitage’s face heated. “Snoke seemed confident in your… abilities.”

In fact, Ren’s contract included a live birth clause. Once Armitage became pregnant, Snoke guaranteed that he would deliver a healthy child. If he miscarried, or the baby was stillborn or had serious defects—and if Armitage was found not to be the cause—he would be entitled to another breeding, or a refund of the stud fee.

“You’re not my usual client. But I thought you were interesting,” Ren went on, sipping his juice.

Armitage looked up in surprise. “Did you?”

“Yeah. Something about you. I thought we would be—compatible. Genetically speaking,” Ren added, smiling a little. “Snoke indulged me, and here we are.”

“Here we are,” Armitage said faintly.

Ren placed his empty glass on the table. “So where do you want to get started?”

“Excuse me?”

“The breeding. Do you have a place prepared?”

“You mean like a… bench, or a stand?” Armitage had been a little worried about that part. He’d read about these things on the HoloNet, but nothing in Snoke’s paperwork specified what kind of equipment he needed.

“A bed would do,” Ren said.

“Right. Of course.” Armitage set his glass aside and wiped his hands on his pants, hoping he looked less anxious than he felt. “I certainly have a bed.”

Ren unfurled his long body from the couch and followed Armitage into his bedroom.

The housekeeping droid had made up the bed with fresh sheets: soft and silver-colored. Standing at the foot of the bed, it occurred to Armitage that Ren was about to fuck him in these sheets. There was a big bottle of lube on the nightstand, purchased just for tonight.

Normally, Armitage would be appalled by his own behavior. He didn’t do this—didn’t have sex with men he’d just met, certainly didn’t pay them to come to his apartment and impregnate him.

But he was also in heat: slick and sore between the thighs, acutely aware of his empty womb.

Armitage turned to Ren—and gasped when Ren kissed him, open-mouthed. He stiffened, too surprised to return the kiss, and Ren pulled back.

“Was that okay?” Ren asked, searching his face.

“I just—I wasn’t expecting you to do that,” Armitage said.

Ren blinked. “What did you think I was going to do—throw you onto the bed and have at you? I mean, we can do it that way, if you want,” he added. “Some people are all business, no foreplay.”

“No, no, this is fine,” Armitage said quickly. His cheeks burned hot. “The kissing, I mean.”

“Good,” Ren said, and kissed him again, deeply.

Armitage was better prepared this time, but the feeling was no less intense. He melted into the kiss, letting Ren cup his face in his big hands, letting Ren coax his mouth open. He had to clutch Ren’s shoulders to keep from falling over. It had been so long since anyone kissed him—and no one had ever kissed him quite like this.

Ren began to peel off his own clothes, dropping them unceremoniously on the floor. He looked even better than the holos in his profile, big and broad and beautifully sculpted, like someone Armitage would’ve dreamed up as a teenager. His creamy skin was speckled with moles and what looked like a few old plasma burn scars.

“You should probably be naked for this, too,” Ren said, and only then did Armitage realize he’d been staring.

Flushing, Armitage hurried to pull off his clothes. He wasn’t much to look at, he knew, but Ren seemed to like what he saw when Armitage stood naked before him.

Not that it mattered. This was a business transaction, Armitage reminded himself, not a romantic encounter. Ren didn’t have to be attracted to him.

The thought disappeared as Ren kissed him again, big hands roaming over Armitage’s bare skin, stroking and squeezing. Armitage could feel that Ren was getting hard, cock stiffening against Armitage’s leg. Meanwhile, Armitage was finding it more difficult to relax.

“You ready?” Ren asked after a while.

“I…” Armitage’s head was swimming.

“It’s okay to be nervous,” Ren murmured. He mouthed at Armitage’s throat, above the tender place where his pulse throbbed. “Totally normal.”

Armitage swallowed. “I keep thinking that’s too late,” he admitted. “I waited so long—”

Ren shushed him. “Not too late,” he said, and pressed a kiss to Armitage’s lips. “A year from now, you’ll be whelping.”

In that moment, Armitage believed him.

This close, even the smell of Ren’s sweat—a faint, masculine smell that Armitage would not ordinarily notice—was arousing. Some instinct buried deep in his genetic code recognized Ren as a desirable mate who would sire healthy offspring.

“On the bed. Hands and knees for now,” Ren said, and Armitage was stupidly grateful for the direction. He’d spent weeks preparing his body for this coupling, but he hadn’t anticipated how out of place he would feel in the moment. For now, at least, he was perfectly happy to listen to the professional.

He climbed onto the bed and rested his weight on his forearms. Instinctively, he spread his knees wide, keenly aware of the wetness between his legs.

The mattress dipped as Ren settled on the bed behind him. He stroked a big hand along Armitage’s spine, slowly, as if soothing a spooked animal. Just that simple touch made Armitage shiver in anticipation; his skin felt hypersensitive. “Relax. We’ve got plenty of time,” Ren said. “Hours and hours.”

A shuddering breath escaped Armitage. The smell of Ren’s skin was overwhelming. He could hear Ren slicking himself with what sounded like a generous quantity of lube; the sound was obscene. The substance smeared on Armitage’s skin when Ren gripped the meat of his ass.

Ren’s hands wandered lower, to the juncture between Armitage’s thighs. Almost indulgently, he spread open the folds there, exposing Armitage’s most delicate parts.

The slit was considered a cloaca, in the most technical sense, because it was the evidence of his distant, dubious amphibian heritage—but by human standards, it was a cunt. It looked much the same as the human equivalent, and served the same purpose.

“Is it sore?” Ren asked, gently rubbing Armitage’s outer folds with the pads of his thumbs.

“Yes,” Armitage admitted, eyes closed. There was no need to ask what Ren was referring to. He knew what he must look like: During a heat, his cunt became swollen, engorged with blood and glistening with slick, like a slice of ripe red fruit. He needed friction, some pressure to relieve the ache.

Ren made a low noise of approval. Then he licked Armitage’s cunt from bottom to top, causing Armitage to yelp in surprise.

Nobody had ever put their mouth on that part of his body. But now Ren was kissing him there, deeply, stroking with his tongue as if he were kissing Armitage on the mouth. Armitage squirmed and panted, scrabbling at the sheets. It was almost unbearably intimate.

Ren hummed in what sounded like pleasure. “You taste good,” he said, lips moving against Armitage’s folds. Then he worked his tongue into the slit, making Armitage whine.

He was so wet. He could feel the slick drooling out of his hole. Could he come like this, just from Ren’s mouth? Was that what Ren wanted?

Suddenly, Ren reached between his legs. Armitage cried out when thick fingers brushed over the little nodule at the apex of his cunt. It wasn’t a clit, not exactly, but it was sensitive at the best of times—and in the throes of heat, it was stiff and aching.

Encouraged, Ren began to rub at the spot, spreading Armitage’s slick around to ease the way. It didn’t take long; a few small circles and Armitage was coming with an incoherent noise, his cunt pulsing around Ren’s tongue.

Only after that did he feel the blunt head of Ren’s cock. Ren rubbed it against his slit for a moment, teasing, until Armitage whined and shoved his hips back, desperate.

Finally, Ren pushed inside, and it felt like a reward. Like a gift.

Armitage’s heat-slick cunt opened greedily for him, but it was still a stretch, sweetly painful at the thickest part. They both moaned as Ren slid all the way inside, slotting them together. It was tighter than Armitage had expected. Fuller. He felt speared open.

“You ever let anyone else fuck you here, in this little hole?” Ren asked, his voice low, as he rocked against Armitage. “Or were you saving it for me?”

“Ren!” Armitage felt like the name had been punched out of him, on an inward slide. He dropped his forehead against the mattress. “Bright gods. Ren, I need it—”

“Deeper, I know,” Ren said, in a low voice, like he could read Armitage’s mind—and maybe he could, Armitage thought deliriously. Maybe that was one of his mysterious, inscrutable Force powers. Ren squeezed Armitage’s hips and began to thrust harder, establishing a rhythm. “I’ll give you what you need.”

Armitage could do nothing in response but push back to meet his thrusts. The air seemed hot and close. Sweat pooled at the base of his spine.

“Do you feel that?” Ren asked, breathing harder. He reached around to press his hand to Armitage’s middle. “You’re not going to get out of this bed without a baby in your belly.”

As Ren spoke, Armitage could see it, in the darkness behind his eyelids: himself, months from now, belly swollen with the child that Ren was planting inside him, newly-bloomed breasts full of milk.

The mental image was startlingly vivid. He could almost feel the unfamiliar heaviness in his body. Was this the Force, feeding him Ren’s vision of the future?

“I know how much you want it,” he heard Ren say, as if from a great distance. “I’ll give it to you, just you wait...”

***

Armitage was on his belly in the middle of the bed, boneless, sheets tangled around his legs, silently praying that Ren’s seed would take. He’d come for the third time tonight, which was good thing—orgasms were supposed to aid conception.

“So are you really some kind of—banished prince?” Armitage asked, eyes half closed.

Ren hummed. “Yeah, I’m the last prince of Alderaan,” he said, kissing slowly along Armitage’s spine.

That earned him a soft laugh. “Very funny,” Armitage said. “But it’s on your profile, you know.”

“Just part of the character. A little mystique.”

“And does it work?”

He felt Ren smile against the skin of his lower back. “It worked on you, didn’t it?”

***

“I don’t normally do it like this,” Ren said, a few hours later, while Armitage bounced in his lap, moaning. “In a private residence, I mean.”

“What?” Armitage almost couldn’t believe Ren was talking shop while he was actively riding his cock. It was kind of a turn-on.

“Usually, it happens in a fertility clinic,” Ren went on. “Or a speciality hotel, or something like that.”

“You’re saying most people don’t take you home?” Armitage asked breathlessly.

Ren grinned. He was gripping Armitage’s hips, eyes dark and desirous. “Well, most people don’t have three-day heats,” he said. “So it’s a bit of a special occasion.”

Then he rolled them over so he was on top and plowed Armitage into the mattress.

***

“Do you ever see them?” Armitage asked. It was probably an inappropriate question, but he was feeling warm and well-fucked and loose in all ways.

Ren stretched, arching his back a little, and rolled over to face Armitage. “Who, the offspring?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve seen a few holos. The ones in the profile. You’ve seen as much as I have.” He ran his hand along Armitage’s side, from his hips to his ribs and back again. “Okay, now I get to ask you a question.”

“Shoot,” Armitage said, eyes falling shut. It was probably a bad idea to get personal with his stud, but they’d already had each other in all possible ways. Besides, it wasn’t like he’d see Ren after the heat was over.

“How come you went with a breeding service?”

That made Armitage peel his eyes open. “Does it seem so strange?”

“A little,” Ren admitted. “When I looked over your profile, I wondered why someone like you would need someone like me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Armitage felt defensive all of a sudden.

“Rich. Good-looking. Got your life together. That kind of thing,” Ren told him. “I guess I would’ve thought someone like you would be taken already.”

Armitage paused, unsure if he felt flattered or insulted. Truth be told, he’d imagined that he would be married at this time in his life—that he would raise his child with a partner, rather than alone. But life didn’t work out the way he’d planned.

“I’ve always wanted a child. But I’m not good at relationships,” Armitage said awkwardly. “I wasn’t really worried. I thought it would happen in due time. Normally, you know, the way it does for other people. But it didn’t. By the time I found out about my fertility problems, it was much too late to find a partner. I didn’t have that kind of time.”

Ren hummed thoughtfully. “So you went to Snoke.”

“Yes. After I looked through his available studs, you were the obvious choice. I didn’t want anyone else,” Armitage said.

The moment the words left his mouth, he felt unbearably vulnerable, like he’d said too much, revealed himself. Ren was watching him closely in the low light. His eyes were dark, so deep Armitage could fall into them.

“I think I know what you mean,” Ren said, his voice softer than before. “Like I said before—I thought you were interesting. There was something about you. I couldn’t explain it, but…”

Ren trailed off. For a moment, they stared at each other across the pillow. Armitage’s heart stumbled.

“Lots of people do it like this, you know,” Ren said suddenly, breaking the spell. “The intentional-single-parent thing. It’s not a big deal. I’m sure you’ll be great at it.”

Armitage sighed, a little sad and a little fond. “You’re good at this,” he said.

“What?”

“Saying just the right thing to lonely saps who’ve paid you to impregnate them.”

Ren smiled softly. Then he pinched lightly at one of Armitage’s nipples, making Armitage yelp in surprise. “Are you going to get tits when you’re pregnant?”

“Presumably,” Armitage said. He had to feed his baby somehow, after all.

“You’ll look good like that,” Ren said wisely. “Nice and round.”

In response, Armitage just kissed him.

**Author's Note:**

> does Ren succeed in knocking Armitage up?
> 
> you’ll find out soon! another chapter is on the way.
> 
> in the meantime, please feel free to visit me [on tumblr](http://gonna-pop.tumblr.com/) or [on twitter.](https://twitter.com/gonnapopfic) thank you for reading!


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